Icarus Walks
by razra
Summary: HP/FMA - Despite warnings, Icarus flew too close to the sun, melting his wax wings and plummeting him into the sea where no one noticed. However, unlike Icarus, Ed would not give up; if he could not fly, then half-drowned, he would walk.
1. I'm

**Icarus Walks**

The first time he had met the boy named "Edward Elric," he was strongly reminded of Tom Riddle…he had the eyes of a hunter. Someone who was absolutely determined to reach his goal.

"What…do you mean that magic is real?" His voice was steady and soft, but almost deadly, as if he were challenging Dumbledore. "You can't be serious." His golden eyes met his own aged eyes, and he wondered briefly if they were natural.

"Exactly what I mean, Mr. Elric." Even though he had said this, he wondered if he could snatch away those words before they reached his ears, though logic told him that there was no way he could be as fast as sound. Is this another Dark Lord in the making?

"Prove it." Maybe if he obliviated the boy… But just because he had the same feeling as when he met Tom, a part of him couldn't help but think that there was a chance that he wouldn't turn out the same.

"Wingardium Leviosa." The desk Mr. Elric was leaning against slowly lifted into the air, and he pushed himself away from it as fast as possible, the wheels on his chair squeaking loudly in protest. Something flashed behind his eyes that Dumbledore couldn't read but it set him on edge.

"I… can't believe this." He abruptly got up. "Sorry, I need..some time." He stood for a moment staring at the desk, and then walked out of the room. For a moment, Dumbledore thought he saw something glistening in his eyes, but it was so quick that he wasn't sure.

Sighing softly, he waved the desk back into its place and got up, his body creaking in protest. Maybe it would be best if he came back another day.

"Ah! Professor Dumbledore! I'm really sorry about Edward! I don't know what got into him. Really, that child! He can be so rude sometimes!"

He smiled warmly at the young woman. It was amazing how such a young woman could open up such a nice orphanage. "Don't worry, dear. I'm sure he has a lot to think about. I'll come back in a few days to hear his answer. Then." He nodded to her and made his exit.

As he was leaving, he caught site of the young man lounging in a tree studying his hands before he apparated back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Dumbledore watched contently as the first-years nervously slipped on the hat as their names were called. However, when the name, "Edward Elric" was called, he immediately tensed. Would this boy also end up in Slytherin too, just like Tom? Is this another tragedy in the making?

The hat seemed to take forever, before it shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!" It felt like Dumbledore's heart dropped. Perhaps he should have obliviated the boy's memory when he had a chance… Before it was too late. He watched with sad eyes as the blonde was greeted warmly by the other Slytherins.

However, that night was not full of bad news. He watched with a slightly lighter heart as Harry Potter was greeted warmly by his fellow Griffindors.

As the school slowly devoured their food, he leaned toward Snape and whispered softly, "Please watch Edward Elric.." At the questioning look, well, as questioning as Snape's face could get, he replied, "Just a feeling…"

With a sharp nod, Snape went back to eating his food and glaring/studying the new students.

* * *

Ron couldn't believe it. Why did Snape always have to separate the houses and pair every Gryffindor with a Slytherin? Ughhh, that - "Potter and Malfoy," Snape drawled, interrupting his thoughts. "Weasely and Elric…" He moved away.

He sighed, grumbling softly to himself about gits and grease as he picked up his books and moved to the table Elric was at, giving him a weak smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Well, let's get this over with…" Reading the first step, he grabbed some beetles and started to smash them, trying to get the potion done with as soon as possible.

"I don't think that's how you're supposed to do it…"

He was about to make a snark reply when Ed's hand suddenly snapped out just above Ron's cauldron. "W-what?"

"Nothing. Thought I saw something. Fly, maybe." Ed went back to calmly crushing the beetles when there was suddenly a cry of dismay from behind them; Neville's cauldron suddenly turned into a twisted blob of ooze and began to spill over onto the floor. Looking up at Snape who was rounding on Neville, he caught sight of a smirking Malfoy who tried to flick something in Hermione's cauldron while Harry and Snape weren't watching, but barely missed. Then it clicked; Malfoy was trying to sabotage the Gryffindor's potions! But then why was his..? Wasn't he closer?

He quickly looked over at Ed who alternated between watching the events and finishing his potion, which was textbook perfect as far as Ron could tell.

For a Slytherin, Ron had to admit that Edward Elric wasn't a bad person.

* * *

Ever since Ron's story about Elric, Harry noticed that out of the whole school, the blonde seemed to be only one of the few who wasn't interested in Harry as something to ogle at or make fun of, as was the past-time of many of the Slytherins. Instead, he seemed to keep more to himself, even amongst the other Slytherins. According to Hermione, he spent more time in the library than even the Ravenclaws, but never seemed to be working on homework.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to go see for himself what the blonde was researching. Unfortunately, on his way to the library, he was cornered by Malfoy and his goons.

"Well well well. Look what we have here!" There was a malicious glint in his eyes and Harry was shoved back into a secluded hallway. "I've been meaning to pay you back for what you said on the train."

Harry gulped and tried to reach for his wand, but his arm was grabbed by Crabbe or Goyle and he couldn't budge it. Glaring at Malfoy, he spotted Elric's hair just over Malfoy's shoulder.

"Malfoy," he had stopped walking and was watching them. Malfoy turned around.

"What is it, Elric?" His voice didn't contain malice, but it wasn't like he was greeting a friend either.

Golden eyes flicked toward Harry and trained themselves on Malfoy again. "I don't really care what you're doing here, but just thought I'd let you know since I found you. I heard McGonagall on her way."

Malfoy nodded his thanks, growled at Harry and left with the two clowns. Elric studied Harry for a second before walking away.

McGonagall never came.

* * *

A/N: Sorry... merely a series of random stuff. None of it really proof-read or anything as I'm too tired to actually write something real.. But I had to write something since seeing that latest Harry Potter movie :D

Funny how things like that will inspire me :O

I guess these are considered drabbles? :/ (There's no real plot for a change... maybe one day I'll rewrite it into a true story..?)

Please excuse any retardedness on my part, and I can't think of a summary or anything, so if anyone has suggestions, that would be lovely.

~razra

Title is from Epik High's "Icarus Walks".. which.. the beginning always freaks me out and is the only part of the song I ever remember... -_-


	2. here

**Icarus Walks**

"I can't do it…"

"Mr. Elric…" Minerva sighed, trying not to snap at the young Slytherin. Her patience was already thin from trying to put the other Slytherins to their tasks. "You can't or you won't?"

"Does it matter? Even if you fail me, I won't do it." He frowned and stared at the mouse that they were supposed to be turning into a teacup, and Minerva found herself sighing again. She expected this of the muggle born Hufflepuffs, and there were certainly a few every year, but she did not expect this of a Slytherin at all.

"Do you mind explaining to me why not?" She resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. It had been a long day.

Elric sighed, glanced at her, then back at the mouse. "Logically, my mind knows that it can be turned back, and that there's no harm done. Logically, but even so… I just can't help thinking..." The rest was too quiet for Minerva to pick up and he shrugged stiffly.

"Very well, Mr. Elric. Use this then." She waved her wand and a miniature cushion appeared on his desk. "Please turn that into a teacup by the end of class."

There was a slight nod from the young man, but a frown still played at his lips. However, unlike the last frown, this one seemed to be more like he was in deep thought rather than in…pain?

As she was leaving to check on the other students, he shook his head as if clearing a thought and pointed his wand at the cushion, softly muttering the spell.

Even after a few months, Minerva still wondered why he continued to refuse to do any transfigurations on live animals when all the other muggle-borns had long since accepted the idea. Occasionally, she would find her mind wandering back to that unfinished sentence, wondering what it was that he had said or tried to say.

* * *

Hagrid noticed that each morning, without fail, a blonde-haired Slytherin would go running around the castle with this long hair swaying like a metronome. Then, having exhausted himself, he would collapse near the quidditch pitch where the sky was most visible, studying his right hand against the cerulean sky - a hand that seemed much too pale for the amount of time the lad spent in the sun.

Yet, as Hagrid watched him that morning before going on his rounds, he was struck by the feeling that something was terribly off about the student's gait even though it was no different than before.

It wasn't until he was tending an injured hippogriff (the silly beast had stepped into a hole and injured his leg) that he realized what was wrong with the student's gait; he seemed to be favoring his left leg, if ever just so slightly. However, having been watching his morning routine for some time, Hagrid knew that this was no recent injury.

If he had to say specifically what was wrong with the blonde, he would have to say that the lad treated his left leg almost like it was not his own, like it was not actually his limb…as if he were trying to get used to it by running every morning.

But that was a silly thought, and Hagrid dismissed it. It had probably been broken and not properly healed or something.

* * *

A/N: Woah! I didn't expect so many reviews! (Especially for something that was written on a whim and was still very very rough.)

Thank you, everyone! I still have a few more ideas I would like to write, but I honestly can't think of a plot for this, so it probably won't last very long.

If people are really inspired or intrigued by these little blurbs, I don't mind if you write your own fanfiction based on this~ (Just give me some credit at least, haha~)

Thank you for the support,

~razra


	3. sending

**Icarus Walks**

Snape discreetly watched as Elric worked on his potion while going about his favorite hobby of "critiquing" his students' potions. Even though he didn't see it first-hand, he knew that Malfoy was messing with the other potions, and it didn't surprise him: Sytherins did that every year, and their annoyance with the other houses was well justified. However, what was truly surprising was the fact that Elric stopped several attempts to sabotage Weasley's potion. A Slytherin helping a Gryffindor willingly without being friends in the first place? It was unheard of!

Pondering this, he wondered about Elric. Slytherins, being known as the house of the Dark-lord, were never kindly looked upon by the other houses, so it was rare that a Slytherin would help another house, especially that of Gryffindor, which was often put in a position of light and good. So why was he put into Slytherin and why was the Headmaster so wary of him? Everything he had seen of the blonde suggested that he should have been placed in a different house…

And Dumbledore's constant insistences on keeping careful tabs on the blonde were also strange. As far as Snape could tell, Elric should have been the least of the Headmaster's worries as he didn't cause trouble and did his work…and didn't seem to have any connection to the Dark Lord at all. Certainly, Elric did not interact much with the other students and he kept a careful distance around him, as if he feared subjecting himself wholly into the magical world; something that was not uncommon of muggle-borns (or in his case, orphans who were muggle raised), but to still have this reaction this far into the term? He wondered…

He watched as Elric stirred his potion when he suddenly tensed and swiftly looked up, his molten eyes meeting with Snape's own dark eyes. Very quickly, several things suddenly clicked in Snape's head: this young man was absolutely determined. Whatever his goal was, he would make it happen, and the thought worried Snape. What was this goal? Something dark and sinister like the Dark Lord's..? Or was it something altogether different? He suddenly understood why the Headmaster was so worried.

Reflecting back, Snape wondered briefly why he didn't use Legilimens on the young Slytherin when their eyes had met, but then realized that there was no way he could have. Even though their eyes locked for only a brief time (Elric looked away first as if to say "You are no threat"), Snape knew that using Legilimens would have been a futile effort. Snape had a feeling that Elric was never truly looking at him, but rather at some goal line far beyond Snape, and if both parties weren't properly looking each other in the eye, then there was no way that Legilimens could work.

Indeed, he would have to keep closer tabs on the young Slytherin.

* * *

Thank you cherry-888 for reminding me that I wanted to write a chapter with Snape! lol, I forget things easily.

As always, thank you for the reviews! Please keep them coming as they are my inspiration~ :D

And I'm sorry. I don't think that I'll be able to turn this into a proper story.. :/ In fact, there are only a few more people I want to write...unless inspiration hits...

Bah, back to work. Can't wait for this semester to end so I don't have to deal with these stupid classes and eight+ hour labs that suck my life away.

~Razra


	4. you

**Icarus Walks**

Hermione had always considered Edward Elric a quiet boy; well, quiet in terms of his laconic replies; his eyes spoke volumes, though most of it was undecipherable. The only emotion she could ever pinpoint was anger, and that was when someone referred to his height.. or lack thereof… ("I fucking dare you to say that again.")

So it came as quite a shock when she, Ron, and Harry caught sight of him after breakfast with his books slipping out of his hands and his jaw slack from disbelief. Then his eyes turned hard as his books finally clattered to the ground in a mass of papers and bindings. A bottle of ink rolled away, leaving a dark smear as it ran.

"You bastard!" It was a low growl, but loud enough that the blonde man walking next to Dumbledore suddenly turned, only to receive Elric's fist in his jaw sending him to the ground. Hermione could feel the whole hall pause in collected breathe, wondering what the man would do; _wondering _what Dumbledore would do.

There was only a moment's shock in the man's face, before he greeted the fuming teen familiarly. "Hello, Edward," he said, wincing as he gingerly covered the spreading bruise with a large gloved hand. "Didn't expect to see you here," he continued calmly, as if discussing the weather. He even managed a small smile. Looking at the two now after the initial shock wore off, Hermione realized that they had to be related.

"That's my line," he growled darkly, reaching forward as if to grab the man's shirt to deck him again."If you hadn't left maybe Al and I wouldn't have…" He stumbled back suddenly with his hand at his temple. A confused look crossed his face, and Hermione quickly glanced at Dumbledore, wondering if he had cast a spell; however, he, too, was very intent on the conversation and had not made a move. In fact, he seemed so focused on the conversation (or rather Elric), that he hardly noticed that his friend was on the ground. "I..You…"

He took another stumbled step before he slumped, blacking out, but before he could hit the ground, the man quickly scrambled to his feet and caught the Slytherin, his eyes dark and concerned. Although Hermione wasn't sure, she could have sworn she heard him murmur, "What did it take from you?"

Now what did he mean by that?

Hermione found her eyes following the Slytherin whenever he was around, curious about the enigma. She couldn't help but feel that he was a Rubik's cube that needed to be solved. However, the longer she watched him, the more she wondered if that cube was a mere 3 by 3 cube, but something much more complex. The first thing she noticed was how the other Slytherins treated him; he was not treated as one of their own, but he was not treated as a complete stranger either. However, the way some of the professors acted around him made her wary: Dumbledore always seemed to lose the glint in his eyes around Elric and something in his eyes always suggested regret, and Snape always watched him with hawk eyes, seeming to memorize every move he took. McGonagall always wore a furrowed brow, as if contemplating something from long ago.

Perhaps the most telling was how his father, as she later found out, acted around him. He stepped carefully, as if afraid that Elric would break, but Hermione wondered, if maybe... He was already broken?

If she had to continue along the lines of the Rubik's cube, then yes, he was not a 3 by 3 cube, but it also seemed like there were some pieces missing, making that cube impossible to solve completely...and maybe that was what his father had meant.

* * *

Sorry that this took so long...and.. I've thought of something really terrible to do to Ed, and I've half a mind not to write it... But maybe I should..?

I dunno... Well, back to work and failing classes.. -_-;;;;;

(Again, sorry, this isn't really proof-read as I lack motivation.. and I've about 7 minutes before I have to be in class.. x.x;; )

And I'll reply to reviews later today, I hope~ Thank you so much for the support! :D

~razra


	5. this

**Icarus Walks**

George and Fred waited with practically bated breathes as they waited for someone to walk into their trap. They could barely hide identical Cheshire grins behind their books and barely managed to look like they were hard at work as they scribbled answers for their Divination homework (On Friday, some poor bloke's hair will be rainbow colored. On Sunday? Another poor bloke will be sitting on the toilet only to find that he can't grab the toilet paper because it was too busy hopping away…).

As soon as Elric lifted the book from the shelf (it was a popular one to reference for the potions homework), it immediately flew out of his hands only to come back and repeatedly try to beat him over the head. It succeeded a couple times before the disgruntled Slytherin kicked it out of the air at the twins who were practically on the floor dying of laughter. They were met with cool golden eyes and possibly a malicious smirk, but at the time, they couldn't be sure.

Maybe it was in this way that their prank war with Elric started? Or was it something else entirely? The two could hardly be bothered to remember, especially when one day, all of their stuff in their bags turned out to be reduced to a very fine dust that left a trail wherever they walked, which definitely warned everyone in the school that they had tried to prank one of the bathrooms.

So of course, it was the twins who first noticed that the Express left short of one blond Slytherin that following year.

* * *

He was pale and clammy; his golden hair was practically brown because he was sweating profusely and his eyebrows were knit together, trapped in a nightmare. The affect of meeting the dementor on the train had taken a deep toll on his physical and mental health. When he had finally woken from his nightmare, his haunted eyes chilled Poppy's soul; no one, no matter how old a person is, should ever look like that. Ever.

It reminded her too much of the foolish bright-eyed mediwitches just out of their training. They believed that they could do anything, but when they met something that magic couldn't fix.. when they found that no matter what they did their patient still died… Well, even if his eyes reminded her of them, his eyes still spoke of pain a thousand times greater, and it broke her heart.

This was the last time Poppy had seen the young Slytherin, and for his sake, she had hoped to never see him again in the hospital wing or hear of him in any hospital, muggle or otherwise. The signs he had shown that day displayed great trauma, but his absolute refusal to find help had left the nurse bereft of options and confused; she couldn't tell if he simply did not want help or if he did not know what she was talking about. In any case, forcing him to find help for something he didn't believe he had could be more detrimental for his health rather than helpful. So she had hoped he was right and had ended up leaving him to his own devices.

But no matter how much she hoped, she knew that it wasn't the truth of reality.

The summons came late at night by a panicked Molly who kept rambling on and on. She half listened to the chattering woman as most of it concerned Mr. Elric's profuse bleeding, which she had managed to stop, other strange injuries, and his eyes. Poppy wasn't sure what to think about Molly's descriptions… but when she saw the young Slytherin laying there, her heart dropped. Yes, she didn't see him in a hospital, but she wished that was where she had found the missing Slytherin. Maybe, he could have had some real help then. The only thing she could do for him now was to close his unseeing eyes.

* * *

Sorry! I fail! I meant to have George/Fred's chapter be more fun, but.. I pretty much failed. -_-;

I'm not really a prankster at heart (though I occasionally will do evil things like lock people in the laundry room)..maybe I will give them another chapter to redeem this terrible one...

Malfoy's chapter will be coming up later for those of you who've asked for it~

~razra


	6. message

**Icarus Walks**

George took another glance at the Slytherin table and shared a small glance at Fred, barely hiding the barest hint of a smile: not there yet.

He had to admit, their newest spell was a great piece of work and it was a pain to learn and set up, but he knew it would totally be worth the trouble. What made the spell so difficult was that it would be triggered by a certain person (like a certain blond) and would proceed to hit everyone in the area, which was perfect to test on the whole Slytherin table, in the twin's most humble opinion.

The reason why they triggered it to the long-haired blond Slytherin was because the two had noticed that he was always the last one to appear in the Great Hall, always having to be dragged away from the library, or so they loudly overheard from Madam Pince. So as soon as they saw the short blond enter, the two couldn't help but share a grin with one another.

They watched as he ("Edward Elric," Ron informed them with a weird look in his eyes as if he were thinking about some encounter they had) paused at the doors, retied his shoe, and then sat down at the end of the table. Almost instantly, a large multi-colored cloud of smoke erupted from the Slytherin table and when it cleared…

Only Elric was affected, his hair sporting all manners of colors like a two year-old had a go at finger-painting his hair and clothes. The Hall burst into laughter, and even some Slytherins and professors chortled, and it didn't escape the twin's notice that none of the Slytherins offered to help him or to defend him, but that was pushed to their backs of their minds as foremost, they wondered why the spell hadn't hit the whole table?

It was also curious how Elric responded.. or didn't respond. He proceeded to shovel food as fast as he could into his mouth, exchanged a few words with his neighbors, and then left which, according to Hermione, was how he always acted. Back in the common room, they tested the spell on a few of their fellow Gryffindors with spectacular results. So what had gone wrong?

They found themselves in the library the next day watching a normal-looking Elric work at a table (How did he remove the spell so fast?). Fred reached into his bag to grab some parchment and a quill to look like they were working rather than spying when the whole thing exploded in his face, marring his and George's features in a colorful replica of what had happened to Elric. Shocked, the two looked at each other, and then at Elric, who was smirking at them.

When the bloody hell did he cast that spell?

It didn't take long for the two to decide that Elric had most definitely challenged them..and there was no way that they were going to back down!

* * *

So so, this was quickly written to try to make up for the terribleness that was the previous chapter. I really do apologize. Hopefully, this attempt is better. x.x;

Also, I realize that the previous chapter was confusing, and in part, I meant it to be. Things will be revealed.. eventually.. (So sorry to all of you who were expecting an explanation with this chapter.. please don't kill me! D: )

And uh, because I can, below is Poppy's chapter that I had scrapped. (I wrote so much, it kinda felt like a shame that no one would read it..)

Meaning that it was supposed to be trash.. but for your reading pleasure(?), I have added it here :D

As always, thank you for your support and reviews! :D

~razra

* * *

Poppy could practically feel herself swell with anger when she heard the news. How dare they? How could they allow dementors onto a train full of children? Oh, how she would curse those ministry officials for allowing such a thing to occur! How she would let them feel the winter of her displeasure!

She immediately calmed down as she heard who was affected the most, and her thoughts turned back to her students. Calling a house-elf, she ordered that many of the dishes to be served that opening feast should contain chocolate, and then set about preparing for the worst of the students, horrified to find that two of them had blacked out: Harry Potter and Edward Elric.

The nurse was relieved to hear that Mr. Potter had awoken, but ice ran through her veins when she heard that Mr. Elric had yet to rise. It was rare when a person was unable to wake after an encounter with a dementor, and it usually had several common reasons; not to say that there aren't uncommon ones too. But these thoughts only caused Poppy to worry more as Mr. Elric was not one to appear often in the medical ward, unlike Mr. Potter.

Perhaps she had missed some underlying mental disorder? Sometimes, when people were unable to wake, it could mean that they carried many terrible memories, traumatic ones. Sometimes, in order for the mind to protect itself, it would lock them away, but when a dementor dragged those memories from their lock and chain, it could play havoc in a person's mind, eating away at them. In order to protect itself, the mind might shut down. However, it could also have been simply the stress of the encounter. It happened sometimes to people with a strong mental awareness.

In her agitation, she felt herself fray a hem in her robe; a habit she had been unable to rid herself ever since she herself went to Hogwarts. Snapping back to attention, she heard the heavy footfalls as Snape came in towing behind him an unconscious Mr. Elric. He placed the boy on a bed and then moved aside as Poppy practically pushed her way to get a better look.

That night was perhaps the longest night she had ever had.


	7. I

**Icarus Walks**

Voldemort could feel himself inadvertently smile at the report. "Yesssss, bring him in now."

Within moments, two of his followers led the blonde boy in.

What struck the dark lord first were the young man's eyes; they reminded him of himself. They sharp and focused, and he felt himself smiling inwardly; such determined people were rare. If he could turn that determination to work toward his own goals, the young man would be a great asset, and the fact that he was a Slytherin would perhaps make him sympathetic to Voldemort's cause. Yes, this could work very well.

"Have a sseat," he said, gesturing to a chair at the at the other end of the long table.

The Slytherin made no effort to sit. Instead, he growled, "I know who you are and I know what you want; I won't tell you how to make the Philosopher's Stone nor will I make it for you."

Almost instantly, after his declaration, he was surrounded by Death Eaters, all with their wands fixed on him. On the other hand, the blonde had made no move save to spare them a glance before fixing his molten gaze back on the Dark Lord. Voldemort frowned; this was not going as planned and that made him angry.

As he stood, he motioned for his followers to step down and withdrew his own wand from his robes. "I would advise you to reconsider." His own eyes promised pain if he refused, but at the same time, they promised anything he wanted if he agreed.

"I decline" Golden eyes locked with his own, and yet, something felt off. Regardless, Voldemort looked into the boy's eyes and saw.. nothing. Why had his Legilimency fail? Had someone taught him Occlumency? But he had met no barrier indicating that he had learned Occlumency; there had simply been nothing. Intriguing.

"You will tell me."

"Never."

Raising his wand, he felt a malicious smirk pull at his mouth; he will make the foolish boy speak. "Crucio."

The effect was instant; the Slytherin fell to his knees, eyes and fists clenched in pain as beads of sweat began to form on his brow. Curiously, he did not cry out.

"Now, you will tell me."

"I.. won't." He was gasping for breath, but this did not stop Voldemort.

"Crucio."

This cycle repeated several times before Voldemort grew tired of the boy's refusal and motioned for Bellatrix. "You will get him to speak of his father's secret."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

Hmm, hopefully this explains some questions that came up~ (and somehow, I'm very dissatisfied with this chapter... :/ )

The next chapter scares me... I don't really want to write it.. T_T

and uh.. well, I'll probably be disappearing for awhile since I have a lot to of work to do for school. *sigh* So unmotivated.

~razra


	8. have

Maybe… this chapter should be rated M? *hinthint* this chapter might be disturbing...or maybe it just freaks me out.

* * *

**Icarus Walks**

Bellatrix tossed the fool in the dungeon, making sure that he was incapacitated enough that he couldn't run. She grinned softly to herself at the memory; to ensure that he couldn't run, she cast a spell on him, one of her own making, and just for good measure, broke his leg too. The crack as she stomped on it that had rung throughout the dungeons was like music to her ears, but his lack of a scream was severely disappointing. It felt as though there was a major instrument missing in an orchestra.

Well, that was fine; she would fix that soon enough, one way or another.

As she thought about how to make him talk, she ran her tongue over the glistening metal of a long knife; she loved the taste of metal. She couldn't understand all the other Death Eaters who insisted on torture methods that involved only using their wands when using a beautifully sharpened blade was so much more fulfilling. Yes, the feel of the sharp blade easily slicing through flesh like butter…

The Death Eater couldn't take it anymore. She swiftly made her way down to the dungeons and dragged the blonde up to her favorite room; it always put her in a pleasant mood suitable for these confrontations. As expected, he didn't struggle; her spell was very good. It would incapacitate his ability to move, but he would still feel pain and his voice would still work. It really was a gorgeous piece of work, in her most humble opinion.

She fingered the blade in front of his eyes to make sure that he saw it and watched as his eyes followed it as a slow grin pulled at her lips. "So why don't you tell me. How do you make it?" She knew her eyes must be bright with excitement and she could hardly hide the glee in her speech.

His eyes shifted from the blade to her face and glared. Bellatrix was hit by how much his eyes looked like her beloved Lord's, and for a moment, she was lost in them. Desire suddenly filled her; she reached forward and started nibbling at his neck.

"What are you doing?" the blonde gasped, clearly attempting to move his arms to push her away.

"I wonder," Bellatrix smiled mischievously stepping back, but the way that he glared rubbed her the wrong way; it was like he was accusing her or some unknown crime and her Lord would never do such a thing! She wondered why she even thought he looked like the Dark Lord in the first place...Could it be?

How dare he trick her and use her beloved Lord's eyes! "How dare you…"

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and fixed her grip on her lovely, trusty knife... Bellatrix would make sure he would never be able to trick her again.

* * *

Umm, yea.. I.. have nothing to say except... I can't believe I wrote this and I feel like a horrible person. (This chapter was seriously burning a hole in my psyche.. x.x) I might be forced to write a much worse version later... and and and and.. please dun kill me D:

And uh.. I really will be disappearing this time. Gotta study so I don't fail so hard.

Thanks for all the reviews and feedback and support!

~razra


	9. always

**Icarus Walks**

Draco rushed from the room and ran to the nearest bathroom, just making it before he hurled. She was insane! Well, it was a fact he already knew, but never in his life did he realize to what extent! For the love of - why did Voldemort insist he learn from her?

He sank down onto the floor, burying the heels of his palms into his eyes. He vainly tried to erase the scene from his memories, but it just wasn't working. It would forever be burned into the back of his eyelids. But worse than the image was the guilt… It ate at him from the inside out and was a feeling that crawled under his skin making him want to scratch his arms until they bled, but there was no way he could go against Voldemort. If he wanted Elric, then Draco would...

This inevitably led to the same questions he always found himself asking: Why did he do it? Why did he listen? Why was his family trapped in this stupid mess?

Ultimately, his thoughts returned to the Slytherin he unwittingly dragged into the war even though Elric had made it clear that he could care less "what dumbass ruled the world as they were all the same." After this proclamation, he would have a faraway look in his eyes and a frown that tugged at his mouth as if he were remembering something unpleasant. Maybe it was these memories that ate at his mind every night and had him thrashing in his bed, ultimately ending in a desperate dash to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach.

Draco could only guess how the other blond managed to stay awake and alert in their classes and working late into the night what with his nightmares and lack of sleep. He found himself intrigued with the other blond. What drove him to work so hard? He was certainly an enigma. He did not seem to cause waves (so long as you didn't mention his height or get testy with his knowledge) and did not exactly avoid people; yet, at the same time, he did not interact with them. As a result, everyone talked with him, but no one actually had a real conversation with the Slytherin.

So it had been surprising when he had punched his father and even more surprising when Draco later found out that the man was Flamel. Of course, this led to one thing, then another, and eventually…

Draco groaned again as the images assaulted his mind and struggled to get up. The crazy witch was probably done by now, and even though he couldn't do anything major, he could at least have it so that Elric wouldn't feel pain and maybe heal some of the wounds. It was the least he could do…

However, when he saw Elric, he couldn't help it; he had to know, "Why? Why won't you just tell her?"

Even though Elric couldn't see him, it still felt like his eyes pierced through Draco. Voice cracking from lack of use, he managed to croak, "There are some things that are worse…than the death of one idiot…"

But what could be worse? If you die, then there's nothing. You can't _do_ anything once you're gone.

Maybe that's why, when Draco was summoned to identify Potter, he resisted in what way he could and managed to get word to the one house elf who would risk everything for Potter, and then proceeded to buy time for their rescue, almost tricking himself that the botched face was not Potter's.

When this was over.. when this was all over, he would…

* * *

I don't remember the book, but I saw the movie a couple months ago, so I went off of what I remember and made the rest up. Yup, please don't shoot me. And hopefully I didn't disappoint with the Draco chapter… x.x

This might be the last chapter. There were a few more people I was thinking of writing, but I don't think I could get their character right.

~razra

Everyone who has been affected by the earthquakes and the subsequent tsunamis, you are in my thoughts.


	10. loved

**Icarus Walks**

"Luna.." His voice was raspy, not **F**rom screaming though, Luna **R**eminded herself. "**I**'ve wanted to know ever since I met you.." he paused and Luna silently urged him on. "Do you smoke?"

"Why would to think that?" People always asked her the strangest things.

"No, nothing. Never min**D**." There was a long silence where Luna w**A**ndered around the cell, looking for an escape, but just like yesterda**Y** and the day before, there was nothing. Not even a hole where nargles could get out.

"I just really wanted whatever you were smoking…" Edward mumbled to himself, sighing as he sunk lower against the wall.

There were sounds of scuffling and then the door opening, a few curses, and then the door clanging closed. "Oh hello, Harry! How are you?"

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, as he caught sight of the blond against the wall while Harry said, "Luna?"

They all then looked at the blond slumped against the wall. "W-what is he singing?"

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**"WE WE WE SO EXCITED. WE SO EXCITED~ IT'S FRIDAY FRIDAY! GOTTA GET DOWN ON FRIDAY!"**

* * *

So as many of you got, this is an April Fools joke :D

Hope you all enjoyed~

As for the continuation of this story... I... am not sure that I can continue it. Brain has run dry and there hasn't been much motivation. I also accomplished most of what I wanted to put out so... :/

Well, til later then~

~razra


	11. no

**Icarus Walks**

He had told him it wasn't his fault, and at the time, it had been so easy to believe him because the way his blank golden eyes bore into his own green eyes demanded he accept the words as truth. However, thinking back, there was no way the Slytherin could have known the circumstances; he couldn't even see!

His fist almost collided with the wall in a desperate attempt to vent some of his anger but he stopped himself when he remembered that there were people sleeping. Sighing, he walked to the window and leaned his head against the glass instead. In the moment of calm that followed, the teen was thankful that the blonde had been there; he had given Harry a chance to thank the house elf for everything he had done allowing Dobby to pass on in peace with a wide smile on his face. It had been the least he could have done for the loyal elf.

The-boy-who-lived rubbed his eyes feigning exhaustion while trying to stem the flow of tears before they could start again, pausing only because he was unsure of why he was trying to hide this fact when no one else was awake in the early morning hours. After getting his emotions under control, he padded quietly out of his room so as to not wake the other occupants and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Surprised, he paused at the entrance before getting a drink and joining the blonde at the table. "Morning, Elric," he greeted softly, unsure of how he should approach the other teen. The Slytherin slightly turned his head in Harry's direction and nodded before turning back to his mug, which looked like coffee that had long since gone cold, if the lack of steam was any indication.

A couple nights ago, he had overheard Madam Pomfrey and Mrs. Weasely talking about the Slytherin's condition so it was a shock that he was already up and about. Perhaps what was more surprising is that the two caretakers were not haranguing the blonde to rest. No doubt, they were somewhere where he had temporarily ditched them to rest from being exhausted after tending to everyone's wounds and Elric's spontaneous struggles and embarrassed apologies.

The blonde snorted into his coffee and tugged aimlessly at the cuff of the much-too-large, white dress shirt he was borrowing from Ron. "It's like a dream within a dream… or a nightmare within a nightmare," he muttered softly to himself. His voice sounded more-or-less normal, thanks to Madam Pomfry's potions, and much unlike the gravelly voice he had used the day Dobby died.

"What do you mean?" The words came out before Harry could censor them.

The Slytherin rolled the mug between his palms and the Gryffindor briefly wondered how he had brewed it when he was blind. "Nothing really." He paused, and then continued to roll the mug. "I just keep expecting myself to wake up and smell that dank cell; hear the drip drip of water…" He shuddered and coughed which sounded more to Harry like he had gagged and forcefully stopped himself from throwing up.

Listening, Harry felt disconcerted: it was as though the other teen really did feel like everything was an illusion; he had developed the dream-like quality with which Luna usually spoke, though not as lilting.

"And then I keep thinking that _that_ might be a dream, and I would wake up to see…" Elric stopped again and confusion flitted across his face. "Who was it? I can't remember…" he mumbled to himself, tugging again at his sleeve – the right sleeve, Harry noticed.

Unsure of what to say, especially since it seemed like the Slytherin had drifted into his own thoughts, Harry took a sip of water. He wished there was something that he could do for the other teen, especially since he was unlike the other Slytherins and seemed a decent sort.

Then a thought occurred to Harry: why had he been there and why did they hold him captive? …How long had he been there?

If he'd been there since he'd gone missing from Hogwarts… then he had been there a very, very long time. However, it would seem like he would have been much less lucid; Hermione had been very distraught, and that hadn't been a long time in comparison. Yet, all the damage the Slytherin had sustained suggested that he had been there, if not the whole time he had been missing, then most of it.

What had kept his sanity mostly intact?

He remembered Hermione muttering something about "not being whole" when she had been hawkishly watching the blonde (much to Ron's dismay), but Harry hadn't been sure he heard her correctly during the noisy lunch. In a way, it kind of made sense; Elric had never been fully there so being tortured couldn't harm his psyche more…but then, that didn't make sense because something like that...

The only other possible explanation Harry could think of was if the Slytherin had experienced something far worse than the torture, to the point where that level of torture he had experienced at the hands of Bellatrix could not harm him. Yet, for something like that to happen, the blond would have had to literally seen hell, and that couldn't be it either…

Could it?

* * *

This was a chapter I had been struggling with for awhile. Initially, I had intended this chapter to be Luna, but I simply cannot understand her/don't remember enough to know what goes on in her head/don't know how her mind works _if_ it works/am too lazy to care *shot*

I also sorely wanted to write that Ed had borrowed the shirt from Griphook rather than Ron *mauled by Ed* x.x

Ugh, and I feel sick (I blame vaccines and anti-malarial pill), so hopefully this chapter did not suffer in quality or anything…

~razra


	12. that

**Icarus Walks**

Ollivander took the proffered wand gingerly; the last one had greatly disturbed his mind: he could feel the hate and cruelty emanate off of Bellatrix's wand even before he had examined it. On the other hand, this one… "Hmm, 8 inches, inflexible, manticore hair core - not something I would normally use due to the creature's intelligence and ferocity…"

He adjusted his glasses and studied the boy-who-lived. "This wand… where did you get this, Mr Potter?"

"When we rescued you and the others, we got a hold of this wand as well… Is there something wrong?" He leaned forward to get a closer look at the wand and then glanced at the old wandmaker.

"Hmm, I see… Very interesting…" Ollivander muttered softly to himself, turning his attention back to the wand and turning it slowly in his hand. This wand was very powerful, but it felt tired as if it were old, even though all indication suggested that the wand itself was not very old. Ah, now he saw what made him think that – the hair used was from an older manticore, but the wood was from a fairly young tree.

He peered closer at the wand. The style of the construction looked familiar; yet… "I believe the maker is Gregorovitch, but it is difficult to say. Very difficult… And very interesting… The wood used – Monterillo - is very unique, rare, and extremely difficult to work with due to its strength and great density; there aren't many wandmakers who would agree to use it since it doesn't like to be shaped. See? Look." – he pointed to the spiral shaft – "It is clearly flawed. Normally these spirals would be perfectly parallel, but they aren't and some of them even end abruptly."

He turned the wand again and paused, pressing his hand against the wood. "This is very strange indeed!" Ron and Hermione moved closer from the door to get a better look at the wand, curiosity getting the better of them. "This portion here was completely broken off, but someone had repaired it using Holly!" The three moved in closer, and sure enough, the wood was a different color.

"I hadn't noticed," Hermione muttered softly.

"Huh, it is very well patched, but it must have some effect on the wand's use and development, though" – he swished it and blue lightening danced from the tip of the wand – "I cannot say what effect. It appears to be perfectly functional…"

Ollivander looked back at the young people before him and handed the wand back to Harry. He paused and folded his hands; he had a sinking feeling he knew who the owner was… the poor lad had indeed been through a lot, more than anyone should ever have to experience in a lifetime… He almost hoped that the wand was not his. "If I had to say who the owner was, I would have to say that it is Mr Elric's."

* * *

For some reason, I've gotten really interested in wands~ So I've decided to have a look at Ed's wand, and this is my take on what his wand should be.

All information about the wood chose, et cetera was taken from here: wizardwands. Net and absitomen. Com /index. php?topic=16.0

Everything else, I made up~

Again, thank you all for the reviews and the support! :D

~razra

**Manticore Hair**: The manticore is an intellegent yet ferocious creature. With the brave heart of a lion and the cunning head of a human, the manticore is not a beast to be trifled with. A manticore hair would be a wise choice for one who wishes to cast dangerous hexes or miraculous charms.

**Monterillo**: This is a rare wood, not often dared by wandmakers because of its density and strength. Draws from the elements of earth and fire. Represents strength, courage, and determination. Although it is used for defensive magic, there is a dangerous power to this wood that can unleash deadly curses if wielded to do so. Excellent for repelling hexes or conjuring Dark Magic.

**Inflexible: **Hexes and Curses. Willful disposition and doesn't back down.

**Spiraled Shaft:** Quick witted and Open-Minded

Also, I chose Holly because I read somewhere that it dealt with resurrection and is a more upbeat version of Yew, which is necromancy.

I hope people in London are safe and the riots stop soon.


	13. is

**Icarus Walks**

_Snap._

_Gasp._

_Clatter._

_Thud._

The sounds came in rapid succession; then there was a split second of silence.

"O-oh g- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean – you surprised me!" Despite the profuse apologies, the blonde did not come any closer from where he had tripped over his chair in his hasty escape. In fact, Molly noted wryly through the pain, even now, he continued to inch away from her until his back was against the wall.

"It's alright, dear. It's my fault. I should have realized -" _that you were deep in thought and couldn't hear me… that I shouldn't touch you because of everything that woman did to you… that even if all I want to do is hug you, I can't because of your hypersensitivity to touch…_ Molly stopped her train of thought; it was just too painful. "Harry, if you would be a dear and wake Madam Pomfrey. I'm afraid that she's going to have to set my arm." Harry, the smart boy, was wide-eyed as he nodded mutely and retreated from the kitchen.

Turning her attention back toward the blonde who was still pressed against the wall hugging himself, the red-head frowned deeply: there was a sheen to his face and he was breathing shallowly and quickly; his eyes, though blank, were moving rapidly in panicked motions. To have such a strong and adverse reaction to touch.. just what exactly did that witch do to him?

Rather than trying to approach him again as her maternal instinct demanded, she stayed where she was; however, unable to do absolutely nothing, she talked about whatever topics came to mind to try to ease the child's mind. Slowly, he started to calm down.

Belatedly, Molly realized that to call him a child was inappropriate: the look in his eyes, the way he held himself, his whole attitude was testament to what he had experienced in his short life, and she was sure that it was more than any adult could handle. Certainly, compared to the pain he had felt at the hands of that witch, her own broken arm seemed trivial.

He took a deep, shaky breathe. "Your arm? Is it ok?"

Molly swallowed hard. "It's fine, dear. Don't worry about it."

He shook his head. "Sorry. I'm so sorry."

Molly felt a tear make its way down her face: was there anything they could do for him? Anything at all?

* * *

Not as proof-read as some of the other chapters/stories because I wanted to post this before I move (and probably won't have internet for awhile…) and I'm super tired... /excuses for laziness...

…OTL I really don't know what I'm doing with this story…

As always, thank you for all the reviews and everything!

~razra


	14. 1

**Icarus Walks**

He studied the glasses in his hands trying to think of the best charm to use and the best way to charm them, but a thought kept bothering him making it almost impossible to focus on the task at hand: just who were these glasses for and why that particular request?

Filius hated to think that somehow, while Mr Potter had been running around the country fighting Death Eaters, he had gotten into trouble and gotten himself blind; yet, the short professor had a feeling that was not the case, though he wasn't sure why. It was just a gut feeling… along with the fact that if Mr Potter were blind, then wouldn't Poppy have given him Mr Potter's glasses rather than a random pair? Though, he supposed that it could be so that no one would know the whereabouts of the dark-haired lad by linking him with his glasses…

Then, if not for Mr Potter, than whom?

Maybe one of Mr Potter's frie-ah.. Suddenly, Filius had a sinking feeling. The glasses were probably for the missing Mr Elric. There had been many rumors about what had happened to the young lad after his disappearance, but the most prevalent one had been that he had been captured by the Dark Lord and possibly killed because he did not support him.

It was a small relief that the lad was alive, but to be blind… and who knows what else had happened?

He remembered when the lad attended school so many years ago… He was very bright, to the point where it made Filius wonder if the hat had correctly sorted him into Slytherin, but he was also very disconnected.

He seemed afraid of something (not in the sense of impending doom like so many of the other students), but at the same time, he was driven with an almost mindless determination. To what end…

He remembered a short conversation with the Mr Elric's father who had been inquiring about the lad. The conversation itself had been nothing remarkable, but there was one thing that still bothered the professor…

"_He blames himself for what had happened…"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_He thinks he killed his brother..."_

* * *

Oh goooddd… There's a freaking big plot hole I need to fill… *sob*

~razra


	15. still

**Icarus Walks**

Brow furrowed deep in thought, he swiftly turned the corner; his robes hissed around the corner whispering dark thoughts behind him.

Just what should he do? The Dark Lord may accept the poor excuse of the timing and difficulty of brewing Veritaserum, but there was only so long that excuse could stall. Yet, there was no way that Snape could actually give him the potion! If the boy were to reveal how to make the stone, then there would be no stopping the Dark Lord. Snape didn't even want to think about what that would mean…

Maybe if he could somehow slip the boy the counter-potion? But to somehow brew that without anyone knowing… it would be impossible. The ingredients needed aren't easy to come by and most of them are carefully monitored by the Ministry. If they found out, then the Dark Lord would surely find out.

However, considering the boy's tenacity thus far, it is entirely possible that he could resist the effects of the Veritaserum…

…But that was a gamble - a gamble that Snape was unsure that he was willing to take. After all, what was on the line was much more than any individual's life... but to kill the boy would be a little…

He suddenly stopped in the middle of the hall.

Yes, he could do _that_…

He could lock away part of the boy's memories and make them completely inaccessible. It would be difficult, but it wasn't something that was outside of Snape's abilities and the method was fairly unknown, so the Dark Lord probably wouldn't think to try to undue it. Then, after everything was over, Snape could undo it and return the memories to him...

Yes… This could work…

* * *

I honestly have no idea what you all thought the plot hole was, but -_**I-**_ thought of Veritaserum.. I mean, seriously.. Why would the Dark Lord even bother holding Ed and torturing him if he could find out everything with a few drops of the potion?

Also, the last chapter title was supposed to be an "I" but ff won't let me have two chapters with the same name so it became a "1." I didn't really clarify that in the last chapter because I didn't think anyone was following that haha.

And I guess, sorry about the lack of updates. Work literally has me so exhausted that I'm too tired to read or even watch TV. I just keep falling asleep on everything. Hopefully, now that I'm getting used to it, I won't get so tired :O (There was also the other matter but if you don't already know, then it's fine. It all turned out fine in the end anyway :D )

As always, thank you for the lovely reviews and support~

~razra

This chapter is dedicated to people who have yelled at me to update. You know who you are -_-


	16. love

**Icarus Walks**

Edward Elric always had carefully shuttered eyes that hardly let any emotion through; his expression was always carefully controlled. Rarely, oh-so-rarely, his face would light with expression that made it hard to look away. How one person could be so controlled, slipping under the radar, then be more alive than anyone in the room? It was mind-boggling.

But perhaps, what was more mind-boggling was…

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The things that came out of his mouth.

Maybe, it would be highly appropriate to call it the _ultimate _torture?

…

"HOLY HELL?"

"DOES HE REALLY HAVE TO DO THAT?"

"SOMEONE! MAKE HIM STOP!"

"OH GOD! NOT AGAIN!"

"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMOOORREEEEE"

"Guys.. GUYS!…MAYBE… THIS WAS VOLDEMORT'S REAL PLAN FOR ABDUCTING ELRIC.

"TO BRAINWASH HIM INTO DOING THIS AND MAKE EVERYONE GO CRAZY TO THE POINT THAT THEY WOULD NOT CARE IF THE WORLD ENDED OR WHO RULED."

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"OMFGGGGGGGGGGGGG…!" D;

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_**It's Friday, Friday  
Gotta get down on Friday**_

…

_**Oh wait. **_

_**It's Sunday!**_

_**It's Sunday, Sunday!  
Gotta get down on Sunday!  
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekday, weekday!  
Sunday, Sunday!  
Gettin' down on Sunday!  
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekday~~~!~!**_

_**Hurraayyyyy!**_

_**LET'S SING IT AGAIN!**_


	17. y o u

**Icarus Walks**

Edward Elric always had carefully shuttered eyes that hardly let any emotion through; his expression was always carefully controlled. Rarely, oh-so-rarely, his face would light with expression that made it hard to look away. How one person could be so controlled, slipping under the radar, then be more alive than anyone in the room? It was mind-boggling.

But now… now was a different story. All those layers of security had been stripped away. The eyes that once spoke of experience and determination now screamed in agony and despair. It was difficult to watch what he had been reduced to when one knew what he had been before.

Luna looked away from the boy – perhaps to call him a boy was not correct - who had not moved from his position against the wall; he had been there for the better part of the day, simply watching. His eyes flicked in panicked motions, trying to catch every bit of activity as if afraid something would jump at him – and maybe something would. The bags under his eyes were greatly pronounced and the glasses did little to hide this fact. No doubt, his nightmares were keeping him from getting any sleep.

Luna gently ran her hands through the wind chimes and they obliged her with a sweet sound. "They say that wind chimes ward away evil spirits… but it's a lie." She could feel his eyes scrutinizing her, trying to decide if she were currently a threat.

But she was hardly a threat, because the evil one should fear the most doesn't come from outside oneself…

"It comes from within."

* * *

It's been awhile, huh? loool and sorry about that April Fools chapter looool *shot* I was having a serious writer's block so I couldn't write anything for a long time. I think part of it has to do with all the stories I write at work. I just get worn out and can't think of anything when I get home :/

After all, you just can't compete with reality... x.x

Also~ If anyone cares (which I doubt), I now have a public facebook ( profile. php?id=100003397482751 ) and twitter (razrae) account! Just lemme know that you are following me through ff so that I can put you in the correct list :D

I will get to reviews eventually :D

~razra


	18. T h i s

**Icarus Walks**

"Neville!"

"Luna? Thank god you're okay! And is that..?" The Gryffindor hesitantly pointed his wand at the stranger, and paused. Dull golden eyes regarded him, but did not move to fetch his own wand in defense. He slowly lowered his wand. "What…?" Neville stared wide-eyed at the blond, now that his eyes had adjusted to the light. Was this really him? He looked…

God, he looked like death.

Elric's sunken eyes were hidden behind glasses (when did he get those?) and he looked thin - much too thin - like he hadn't had a proper meal in years. His eyes were dull and when the Slytherin moved, it was with a stiffness like he wasn't used to the action (how can you not be used to moving?).

What on earth happened? Neville had heard the rumors, but he didn't believe them; Elric was too smart to be caught by the Dark Lord, but looking at him now… maybe they were true..?

"Edward wants to help," Luna supplied. "Mrs. Weasley and Madam Pomfrey weren't too pleased, but he insisted…" She shrugged, her explanation drifting off as another thought occurred to her. She looked tired and there were dark circles under her eyes, Neville noted, but who wasn't?

"Uh, yea. Thanks, Elric," he mumbled, unable to get over the Slytherin's transformation. Stunned into silence, he led the two through the tunnel to Hogwarts.

Neville remembered the blond… The Gryffindor had been intimidated by the green trimmed robes at first, but slowly, Neville saw beyond that; Elric wasn't what he appeared to be and he wasn't like many of the other Slytherins. If anything, it felt odd that he had been sorted into that house. It almost seemed like… well, it just seemed like he was more suited to being in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw; he certainly spent more time in the library than any Ravenclaw Neville knew, and from experience and Harry's stories as well as other eyewitness' accounts, he had a way of stopping his housemates from bullying other students. Then again, it wasn't the straight-out way a typical Gryffindor, or even Hufflepuff, would have handled the situation.

For some reason, a memory of one of the blond's pranks surfaced in his mind and brought a small smile to Neville's face. The Slytherin also had this strange knack for somehow avoiding detentions even though he created as much havoc as the Weasley twins.

He gave a sidelong glance at the other boy and noted that he seemed to be drooping and was steadily slowing his pace. It wasn't long until he started trailing a hand along the rough wall - to catch himself in case he fell, the Gryffindor realized. Neville glanced at Luna, uncertain, and they slowed their pace to match his as she stepped beside the other boy, ready to help him if the occasion arose, but oddly, did not touch the Slytherin.

It took twice as long, but they eventually made it to Hogwarts. Before opening the portrait, the two stopped to give Elric a break, as he was pale and panting softly from exertion (and the two knew what reaction was waiting for him on the other side). Had that walk really taken that much of a toll on him? He looked at Luna, bewildered and disturbed; after all, their walk had only been the length of a quidditch pitch! She mouthed something back and it took Neville a moment to realize what the word was – Bellatrix.

Surprise was quickly replaced with cold anger (his parents_, lying there – it was more of a blessing when they were asleep because when they were awake… At least he wouldn't have to hear the words, "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" It was the only coherent thing to ever come out of their mouths_), but before he could dwell on it for too long, Luna pushed the portrait door open.

It was as expected: There were cries of relief over Luna and suspicion was immediately cast on the Slytherin who hadn't moved from the passageway. If anything, he seemed to be backing down the way they had come. (Was this the same person who never relented to the red-headed twins?)

Luna quickly extracted herself from the others and slowly approached the Slytherin. He couldn't hear what they were saying as they spoke in rapid, hushed voices, but Neville couldn't help noticing that Luna kept her hands within the other boy's field of vision as if reminding him she was no threat.

It took several minutes, but eventually the Ravenclaw was able to convince the blond to move into the temporary dorm and away from the passageway. A hush fell over the students as they took in what they saw, and Neville couldn't blame them; this definitely wasn't the same person who had been a student all those years ago. The Gryffindor watched with a pang as the other boy skittered nervously around the edge of the room, warily watching everyone as he parked himself against the far wall, where no one could surprise him.

Neville gritted his teeth and looked away as everyone slowly dispersed. He never would have admitted it all those years ago for fear of being made fun of, but Neville respected the Slytherin. If anything, he _admired _the other boy; he wasn't afraid to do what he wanted, and he wasn't afraid to stand up for himself or others – things Neville never had the confidence to do.

But now…

Now, it was completely different. Neville had discovered his confidence, but Elric was shattered - and though he hated to think it - it seemed that the damage was irreparable. Yet, despite had been done, he was still _with _them - alive _and_ thinking - and that was something at least.

But was it enough?

* * *

I'm really sorry about the late update! I've been super stressed and making myself sick OTL (and the fact that it's been over a week since I had a decent night of sleep.. -_- )

Well, enough excuses. Hopefully, the chapter did not suffer (and it's longer than usual! Yay!), and sorry if people were OOC.

…Well, I'm gonna go cry in a corner now. ||OTL

~razra


	19. i s

**Icarus Walks**

Neville instinctively felt someone step up from behind him, but the Gryffindor didn't turn his hardened eyes from the Dark Lord who looked far too amused for the Gryffindor's liking (Fighting without Harry Potter?). The lines of Death Eaters behind the Dark Lord were laughing amongst themselves and there were hushed whispers behind Neville ("Harry Potter… Dead? It-it can't be!"). However, as the lofty expression dropped from the snake-like face and turned to one of fury, Neville couldn't help but looked behind him in confusion. Just who was it?

"You…" The voice was dark and angry, but the Dark Lord was interrupted by another voice, equally dark and angry.

"You fucking bastard." Neville was shocked to see the blond Slytherin. This… Surely _this_ wasn't the same boy who was cowering in fear and was barely able to defend himself several hours ago? No… Rather… This was someone who moved with practiced ease; someone who was used to battle. But how could that be? What caused _this_ change? Had something happened between Elric and Harry earlier? Neville saw them talking and he knew something had passed between the two - if the bit of magic was any indication - but to change this much? There was no spell Neville knew that could do this! (He certainly would have found it in his earlier years if only to stop his own cowering and be someone his grandmother – and his parents – could be proud to call their blood.)

"Did you kill him?" Golden eyes flashed molten and hot, meeting dark cold eyes. Neville shivered despite himself and was glad that neither pair of eyes was directed at him.

The Dark Lord quickly recovered, sneering. "Who? That idiot Flamel? Or perhapsss you are talking about..?" He smirked, a knowing look on his face, his eyes not moving from the blond's.

"YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!" Neville was shocked by the rage and anguish in the voice and there was a resonant pang in his chest; he knew what it felt like to lose someone to death… or to insanity (He had too few precious memories of his parents: A warm embrace as they tucked him in at night; a soft farewell as they closed the door behind them, the bright light of the sun obscuring their expressions of love - an expression Neville wasn't sure he could even remember…).

Elric made a move to charge, but was stopped by a quick hand on his shoulder. Luna spoke rapidly, "STOP! You don't know if he's telling the truth! Your memories are all confused! You know what Bellatr-"

"I DON'T CARE!" He broke eye contact with the Dark Lord to glare at the pale blonde for interfering. "If I can pummel his flat-nosed face…" He roughly shrugged her hand off his shoulder and growled, eyes returning to You-Know-Who and narrowing to golden slits as he cracked his knuckles angrily. Luna looked desperately at him, but fell silent as she realized the Slytherin would not listen to a word she said. Instead, she looked around, assessing the situation. Neville quickly did the same. If Elric planned on trying to take-out the Dark Lord, he would make sure that the Slytherin was not alone in the effort.

A glittering in the periphery of his vision drew his gaze downward; the Gryffindor had forgotten that he was holding the sorting hat. Blinking, he slowly drew the hat upward to get a better look. _Couldn't be…! _

However, he didn't have time to dwell on his finding as the world suddenly exploded into chaos. As Elric rushed forward with no prelude, he reached into his robes and brought his wand up to deflect a nasty looking spell. A scream of rage and pain diverted Neville's attention back to the Dark Lord and he briefly caught sight of the older man on fire before it was doused with an angry flick of the wand.

But where had that spell come from? Elric hadn't cast anything yet…

Neville barely caught sight of a familiar silhouette running for cover, hastily throwing another spell over his shoulder.

Wait.

That was…

_Harry was alive? _

Neville had no time to digest this fact as he became aware of more spells hurling through the air. Reaching blindly in the sorting hat, he pulled out a glittering sword just in time to block a blazing crimson spell from You-Know-Who, causing the Gryffindor to fly backwards in the air. A furious look marred the Dark Lord's features as he apparated, no doubt in pursuit of Harry, leaving Elric to deal with the sudden rush of Death Eaters.

Time seem to slow as Neville caught sight of the Slytherin sweeping the legs out from under a Death Eater and smoothly transitioning into a side kick as another Death Eater attempted to sneak behind him. Planting his foot, he deftly grabbed and threw the Death Eater over his shoulder, using the man as a shield against a violent spell, and dropped him on top of first Death Eater who was clambering back to his feet. Turning to race after the Dark Lord, he was stopped by yet more Death Eaters.

Detachedly, Neville wondered where the Slytherin learned to fight.

_CRACK!_

Then, there was nothing.

* * *

More Neville~ Hope you don't mind~

Annnndddd, I _HAVE_ been thinking about this story, and I've come to two endings. I'm not sure which I'll write as of yet… and I'm rather tempted to write both. HMMM.. Not sure… Though, if I do write both, they would have to go in as new stories as they would horribly clash. Hmm…

Thank you for all the reviews and support! I would never have made it this far/written this much if it weren't for you all! m(_ _)m

I'm really sorry about my slow updating, but it's just how I am.. -_-;

~razra


	20. farewell

**Icarus Walks**

It was the middle of the night and people were sleeping, or trying to sleep as there was a lack of snoring and the still air was punctuated by soft whimpers, but Des didn't want to close his eyes, because if he did…

Well, it didn't seem to matter anyway. The images were seared onto the back of his eyelids and into his retinas; he would never be able to forget… but worse than the chaos of the war was the aftermath and finding out who made it…

…and who hadn't.

_Des watched helplessly as the auror carefully lifted the small girl. (He later learned that her name was Aurora.) She had no blood on her; only a layer grit and dust, but she wasn't moving and she was so pale... _

_The auror moved heavily passed him, and he could see that she wasn't breathing. His breath hitched. Merlin, she had to be only a first year. Only a first year! She had her whole life ahead of her! She had family.. friends… goals… dreams… but none of it mattered anymore, because she was already... _

_He looked away as several people descended on the two; their cries of desperation begged her to open her eyes. He couldn't watch anymore, because he couldn't help thinking – hoping – praying – anything - for the sake of her loved ones that she was asleep or merely knocked unconcious. Maybe she would wake, laughing at how she had tripped in the dirt earlier… or something. _

_Or something. _

_Instead, Des' eyes fell on a familiar face. His heart stopped and plummeted. He knew him. He KNEW him. His knees buckled and there was a sharp pain in his right leg as he landed on a piece of the castle, but he barely felt it through his numb mind. _

_Laying on a piece of tarp was a fifth year Hufflepuff – his __**best friend**__. (It can't be… He was seeing things. There was just no way…) His chest was still, much like the girl's, and his face still held a stricken expression of surprise. There was coagulated blood pooled at his neck, and by now, Des could tell that the pool of blood was much too large for someone to survive. The sickly sweet smell of iron reached his nose and he gagged. Tears flooded his eyes, blinding him. _

_He was playing a prank - Merlin, let it be a prank! He would get up at any moment, laughing at him. _

_Any moment now._

_Any._

_Moment._

_Now._

_But reality and wishful thinking simply weren't compatible. _

_The next few days were a blur. He remembered refusing to go home with his parents despite their pleading and was surprised when his sister defended his choice to stay; instead, he volunteered to help with the injured and the rebuilding of the school - ANYTHING to keep his mind from going back to the battle and the events following. For awhile, it helped, but by the end of the week, there wasn't nearly enough to do. _

_Not nearly. _

_(His mind wouldn't stop and he kept flashing back... Des could still hear a spell whiz by his head and the frantic yells coming from every direction… Someone beside him grunted and fell - never to move again.)_

_By the end of the second week, the injured had been moved to St. Mungo's, to smaller surrounding hospitals or had gone home; the deceased had been collected by family and friends and then buried or cremated in a never-ending procession of wakes and funerals. _

_All…_

…_but one. _

_No one had come to collect the young blond man, and no one could seem to find his family. It didn't help that no one really knew him either. Surely, there had to be someone in his life? Someone! No one could go through life alone! (A fact he knew well because he never would have made it to this point without the support of his sister)._

_But no one stepped forward._

_It was eventually decided that Edward Elric would be buried on campus. He had a small funeral attended by everyone who was left at the castle, because it just didn't seem right not to attend when the blond had no one to remember him. _

_As the cleanup of Hogwarts concluded, a plaque was placed in the front entrance to remember those who passed, but he didn't need a plaque to remember. He would never forget. _

_Never._

* * *

A scream punctuated the air, and the students flinched (save for the innocent first years who had not been around during the battle at Hogwarts), and they reflexively pulled out their wands, searching for any sign of danger. Most of them were even pressed against the ground in an attempt to dodge some invisible spell.

As they realized they weren't in any immediate danger, they cautiously followed the source of the screams, only realizing, as they got closer, that the screams consisted of the word, "No."

On the edge of campus, bent over the grave of Edward Elric, was a first year Hufflepuff boy sobbing uncontrollably.

_Farewell._

_-fin-_

* * *

Thinking of everyone affected by the shootings in Aurora, Colorado.


	21. fare well

**Icarus Walks**

**second ending**

The young resident stepped out of the room, trying to squelch the overwhelming need to swear or do a random act of violence. She spotted a rubbish bin and barely contained the urge to punt it down the hall. Turned out, Val didn't have to. Her attending stepped out a second after her and didn't hesitate, sending the rubbish bin along with a strong swear. There was a clatter as the bin spilled its contents (mostly vials of strengthening and Wake-Me-Up potions as the staff had been downing them like candy) down the hall. A few surprised nurses stopped to stare, but quickly moved on, too busy to pay the irate healer any heed.

No one could blame the doctor for his moment of anger; they had been losing people left and right all night (_was her brother one of them?_), and the staff had been drained trying to keep people alive, forcing them to resort to less effective muggle methods. Yet, people still kept pouring in from Hogwarts and the department was already at over-capacity; all the rooms had been double or tripled up. Soon, they were going to have to line the halls with the injured.

There was a beep and the HUC's strained voice was magically relayed throughout the department. "Please greet the new patient in Resus 2. Nurse, tech, registration to Resus 2." A second later, there was another beep. "Please greet the new patient in Resus 1. Nurse, tech, registration, Resus 1. Fuc-"

Val swore softly and heard an echo behind her as her attending swore loudly. They were thinking the same thing: _This wasn't St. Mungo's! This wasn't a bloody trauma center either! This was only a small hospital! _But… desperate times called for desperate measures, and dealing with the aftermath of the battle with You-Know-Who's army was certainly a desperate time. At least she wasn't working at St. Mungo's; she couldn't even begin to imagine the chaos they must be in. Running, the two dashed down the hall. "Take Resus 2. I'll check on you later," the doctor yelled before running into Resus 1.

A rush of nervous energy filled her body. Residents weren't supposed to take the resuscitation rooms, but there was no one else to spare. She knew for a fact that the other healers were stuck in their respective rooms. _SHIT! I'M ONLY AN FAMILY PRACTICE RESIDENT! I DON'T KNOW BLOODY HELL ABOUT EMERGENCY MAGIC! WHAT DO THEY WANT ME TO DO? _Gulping down panic, Val dashed down the rest of the hall into Resus 2.

Four years of graduate training in medicine, two more in residency, and even the last 24-48 hours did nothing to prepare her for what she saw. _Merlin, was there a person there or did they just bring in someone's blood and throw it around?_

She took a deep breath, then immediately regretted it; she could taste blood in her mouth and it almost choked her.

'_FOCUS! ' s_he screamed at herself. The resident took another calming breath (this time, the blood did not irritate her as much) and looked within herself. Her magic was dangerously low. Who knew how many more spells she could cast before falling into a magical coma?

Gritting her teeth, Val studied the patient and her heart sank (_Merlin, another child... How many more sobbing parents do I have to tell that their child wasn't going to be coming home ever again?_). She quickly glanced at the glowing red numerals over the patient, announcing his vitals as the tech and nurse frantically searched the patient for the sources of bleeding. _BP 96/60 and slowly dropping. Tachycardic. Regular rhythm at least. Tachypneic. Pale. _She moved closer and gently touched his arm. _Cool to touch... and much too much blood in all the wrong places._ "Are there any blood replenishing potions left?"

"I think we just used the last one in room 1," the nurse replied in a strained voice.

"Shit..." Her mind raced trying to remember her muggle training, glad that her graduate program forced their students to learn muggle methods. "Alright, One – no - two large bore IV's. Fluids wide open. We need to bring his pressure up. Have they gotten any blood from the muggle hospital yet?"

"It just came in." The nurse muttered while magically clearing away some of the blood, revealing a long gash running across the patient's ribs. She magically closed it and then reached into her robes taking a swig of strengthening potion. She swayed slightly on her feet. The tech quickly moved on the other side of the blood sodden bed with the tourniquet, trying to get IV access while feeding his extra magic to the nurse across from him.

This wasn't looking good. They were all too drained.

The resident bit her lip and pointed the wand at her throat calling the charge nurse. "We need 3 units of blood in Resus 2, STAT." Pointing the wand away, Val muttered to herself. "At least he's not in shock… yet…" She reached into her own robes and took a large gulp of strengthening potion and steadied herself. She was going to have to magically search for the source of the bleeding and then use the cauterizing spell; he was losing too much blood to try any other method... and who knows what internal trauma he'd sustained?

Focusing, she began.

* * *

Someone was gently slapping her face, and her eyes fluttered open. "What?"

"You passed out," the tech said tiredly. Val had a sneaking suspicion that she looked as awful as she felt.

"The kid?" She quickly scrambled to a standing position, nearly falling back into a heap as her legs attempted to give way.

"He's fine. Stable now."

Val sighed in relief. _Oh thank Merlin. At least one of them __survived. _She took a deep breath, took a swig of strengthening potion, and then one swig of the Wake-Me-Up potion in an attempt to clear her foggy mind. "Any other trauma codes come in while I was out?"

"No." He paused. "It slowed, too." He added warily. He said the taboo word (_Slow_. You NEVER say that word unless you wanted every smelly, deranged case that walked through the doors. The last time Val had accidently said the word, it was a lucky _lucky _day of 12 or so hematochezia cases; Merlin did they _smell_), but she didn't hold it against him. He gestured over his shoulder. "He's a no doc."

"So he's mine… Great…" She sighed. Patients who didn't have a doctor listed on their charts were given to the family practice residents at this particular hospital - a practice she didn't approve of. "I'll go get the documents to get him upstairs then." She paused and looked at the blond patient. He looked so young… He could have been in fifth year, like her brother…

"By the way, we got word about your brother." Her neck cracked as her head swiveled to stare at the tech. "He's fine."

Suddenly, all the tension left her. "Thank goodness... thank goodness!" Tears of joy and relief jumped to her eyes. She had been trying to avoid the thought ever since she learned what had happened at the school because if she dwelled on thoughts of her little brother, she would become useless and unable to do anything.

But he was fine, and that was all that mattered. He'd made it.

* * *

It had been several days and still the boy did not wake. Headmistress McGonagall had come with some papers and then left, not lingering too long with the restoration of the school still underway. At least, she now knew the patient's name and some of his history. With this, Val could finally write up a proper chart.

_Edward Elric _(which sounded much better than Joe Bloggs IV, in her opinion) _presents to EC unresponsive. Patient with multiple lacerations secondary to altercation with You-Know-Who and his army while at Hogwarts. Patient stabilized with fluids and blood transfusions and bleeding controlled with the cauterization spell. Patient's left shoulder was noted to have an anterior dislocation and was reduced on the floor. Patient given Skele-Gro for multiple fractures in various extremities. Patient provided with pain potions. _

_Documents received from Hogwarts and reviewed. Patient not on blood thinners. Patient is blind secondary to torture. Patient was provided with glasses spelled for sight. Will keep glasses at bedside for when patient wakes. _(She idly wondered what spell Professor Flitwick had used to spell glasses for the blind.. it would be useful to know...).

_Patient currently in a comatose state with a Glasgow Coma Scale of 3. Will continue to observe. Unknown if cause is from a spell. Spellwork reveals no specific spell to be the cause; however, this does not preclude other, lesser-known spells. Consult with neurology reveals some Legilimency abuse. The official report suggests that it was a short exposure and likely occurred only once. Will consult psych to address patient's mental status status-post Legilimency, mental trauma status-post torture at the hands of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, as well as for possible post traumatic stress disorder. _(Merlin, this child has been through too much… and who knew what Bellatrix did? She was a master of torture, both physical and mental. Val had even heard tales from other healers that the Death Eater had created her own spells, one of which could scramble and change someone's memories, making them believe in something that hadn't actually happened…)

Sighing heavily, she finished up her chart and read it over. Unfortunately, from the file she received from the Headmistress, it appeared that Edward Elric had no family as there was no one listed in his emergency contact list. On the side, the Headmistress informed her that his father had gone missing.

Unfortunately, this also meant that Mr. Elric had less reason than most to wake from his coma…

_He probably won't make it._

* * *

It was another day - another glorious, _stupid_ day. Val quickly made her rounds, wanting to get a nap in before someone hijacked her for another patient who wasn't _actually_ sick but the EC healers admitted anyway. If she had to talk to _another_ noncompliant idiot about the importance of taking his potions on time she was going to-

"ED!" The voice echoed down the hall, and she picked up her feet, running uncertainly to the room. _Was it a code? But he's been stable for months! _Pausing just inside the door, she spotted Headmistress McGonagall and a young Gryffindor boy who was gently shaking Mr. Elric. She realized that the boy and her patient had to be related.

_So coma kid did have family after all._ _That's good. That's good... Now if only he would wake up. _

Just as she thought this, she noticed a twitch in the patient's hand. Then, to her amazement, he stiffly hugged the young boy.

"Al… You're here… But how? I thought I'd lost you." His eyes opened and stared blankly around. Uncertainly, his hand grasped for his glasses, and the Headmistress put them in his hand. He put them on and studied the boy before him disbelievingly.

"Dad… He opened the gate and found me."

The golden eyes focused. "Then he's..?"

"Gone. He's gone."

_Fare well._

_-fin-_

* * *

I don't know why I decided to write the endings from the POVs of non-canon characters... It just felt right. Sorry if it bothers you.

Thank you all for sticking with me until the end! May or may not be a sequel. Thinking about it~

Also, does anyone happen to have an AO3 invite? And if you have any challenges, feel free to PM me!

~razra

something random.. Yes, I did put Al in different houses for the different endings.

* * *

HUC - Hospital Unit Clerk

EC - emergency center, also ER (emergency room) or ED (emergency department). From my experience, people in the medical field usually refer to the ER as the EC (some prefer ED) except when talking to patients or non-medical people.

BP - blood pressure

tachycardia - rapid heart rate

tachypneic - rapid respiratory rate

Joe Bloggs IV - Like John Doe.. The IV indicated how many unknowns came in.

I do not claim to know any trauma medicine... or medicine for that matter. Sorry if things are wrong.


End file.
